Chapter 14: The End

                                    

                                          
Chapter 14: The End
So, here's the thing they don't tell you in the romance movies. It ends. Always.
And, usually, one of you is not happy about it. And wants to talk. And looks for you everywhere.
However, the good thing is that that individual is going back to Bulgaria. Today.
Let's delve into what my thought process is.
Essentially, I am a huge factor in the resurgence of a magic-wielding, all-powerful, super-evil, domination-desiring lunatic, right? So, like, I'm not feeling great about myself right now. There's quite a bit of guilt that I've been lugging around, and also I can't seem to think about what happened without some tears.
Which I think might be normal.
I've never really been subjected to much pain. I mean, there were a few times when I stubbed my toe and I honestly thought I needed medical attention. There were times when I got one of those period cramps that feels like there's definitely a knife somewhere in my abdomen. I've gotten papercuts between my fingers. The whole shebang.
But this... This was different.
The burns, the splinching, the bruised bones, and then, to top it all off, the cruciatus curse. 
I can think about it objectively. If I remove myself from the equation, or I think about it in a very shallow sense, I can handle it. I can say, 'I experienced the worst pain of my life in a tournament where I was fighting for my life.' And that's fine.
But if I'm alone and I think about it a little deeper, if I remember what it felt like...
Yeah. Not good.
I gave my testimony to a couple of aurors a few days back and when I tried to relive it, I suddenly started sobbing. Like uncontrollable, choking for air, unable to speak type sobbing. Completely panicking, worrying about what would happen if I had to experience those pains again. Thinking about having to apparate makes me shudder. I have to close my eyes tight and remember where I am, run my hand over the healing burn that doesn't hurt so much anymore.
Unlike the splinching.
Oh, the splinching. What a thing. To feel your skin tear apart and—
No. No, no, no. Not thinking about it.
So, my current plan is to actually pretend that it never happened. Think about it as little as possible. When people ask me how I'm doing, I pretend they're concerned over other things. Rita Skeeter published an ugly photo of me. I think about that. So the conversation goes like this:
Random Person: Oh my God, Y/N, oh my God, oh my God! I suddenly care about you! This is totally my business, girl! How are you doing after everything that happened?
I edit the conversation a bit, so it computes like this:
Random Person: Oh my God, Y/N, oh my God, oh my God! I suddenly care about you! This is totally  my business, girl! How are you doing after [Rita Skeeter posted that ugly picture of you, that bitch]?
And I say:
Y/N: Good, I'm doing fine. Great. Better than you. I have prize money that makes up for it*. I love what happened. Everything is cool. I am not drowning in guilt. I can think about it and cope in a healthy way. Thank you for asking, girly!
*the ugly photo
So... Yeah. There's an issue.
But I didn't have it the worst. Poor Harry... It was so much worse for him, so I feel bad for feeling bad for myself. And then there's the whole thing that I let him go and left him alone in the graveyard to fend for himself against a dark wizard that's been trying to kill him since he was an actual infant.